The ballroom glimmered with soft golden light, strings of fairy lights draped across tall windows, and black-and-white photographs lining the walls. The gala in St Ambrose was buzzing with chatter, glasses clinking, and the hum of live jazz coming from the corner stage. You were standing near one of the exhibits, studying a photograph of a newborn’s hand curled tightly around a mother’s finger, when a warm steady voice spoke behind you.

“Beautiful shot, isn’t it? Captures everything we try to do at Oceanside in one frame.” Addison murmured.

You turned, and there she was… Addison Montgomery. Striking in a deep navy gown that flattered her tall frame, her red hair was swept elegantly over one shoulder, she extended a hand with her natural confidence.

“I’m Addison,” she said, “Thank you for coming tonight.” she added with a small smile.

You returned the smile, taking her hand, but as you were about to introduce yourself a sharp buzz interrupted. Addison sighed softly, fishing her phone out of her clutch. Her face softening immediately when she saw the caller ID.

“Henry,” she murmured quietly, stepping a little aside but not too far from you. She answered, her voice instantly switching from polished and professional to warm and maternal. “Hey, buddy. Everything okay?” she asked softly into her phone.

There was a slight pause as she listened, her brow furrowing, then easing with a gentle laugh.

“Yes, I’ll be home soon. No, you don’t have to wait up. Put the phone down and go to bed, okay? I love you.” she murmured.

She hang up eventually, and turned back to you with a hint of an apology in her smile.

“Sorry. My eleven-year-old kid.. He gets anxious when he's home alone" she sighed.